


Early Morning Hours

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's after closing time at the Roadhouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Morning Hours

He was unsure at first, but there are no qualms now as Jo’s hips snap against his ass, thrusting the strap on deep as her hands haul him back onto it. He’s clinging to the edge of the bar, back bowed and legs trembling as she fucks him. A particularly hard thrust drags a cry out of him and she laughs, running one hand to press his back down just a bit more to change the angle, the other reaching around to stroke his cock. 

"Look damn good like this, Dean," she huffs with a laugh. "Knew you could take a cock like a champ. Too bad there’s nobody here to see it huh? Might have to do that next time, spread you out just like this for a bar full of hunters, let them see just how much a cockslut big, bad Dean Winchester is?"

"Jo, Jo fucking  _please-_ " he gasps because he’s so close now, needs just a little more to get there.

"Or maybe you just need Sam huh?" Jo says daringly. "Sit your little brother up on that bar so you can put that mouth to use while he watches you get fucked?"

Dean chokes on a moan, spilling over Jo’s hand as his mind reels at the image. She follows him as his knees give out, only saved from hitting the floor hard by his grasp on the bar. He rests his sweaty forehead on the cool/sticky wood, panting and groaning lightly as Jo pulls out. 

"Jesus fucking Christ Jo," he mutters finally. 

"Good huh?" she says with a grin from beside him, tucking herself back in so she can sneak back upstairs. 

"No shit. But ah," Dean swallows nervously as he stands, pulling his jeans back up. "How did you …"

"Know about Sam? Didn’t really," she says with a lopsided smile. "Took a chance." 

"Damn," he huffs with a laugh. "Hell of a chance."

Jo shrugs, and steps up to peck him on the cheek before heading toward the living quarters. “Good night, Dean.” 

Dean watches her walk away, leaning back against the bar. “Night, Jo,” he says softly. 


End file.
